Showing posts with label chest infection. Show all posts
Showing posts with label chest infection. Show all posts

March 27, 2009

Spring and I are quietly getting on with stuff


Spring rushes onwards and the flowers grow ever brighter in the park. A few days ago we had a little meander around the flower beds and it was indeed splendid. I won't upload hundreds of pictures but the following should give you a taste of what is happening out there.

Don't they brighten up the day?
Just look at the golden glow from this forsythia bush.
These could almost be summer flowers.
Then there has been knitting. Not a lot because the dreaded viral thingy has now sat upon my chest and refuses to depart. Indeed I had to go the visit the doctor this morning for aid in removing said virus as I am wheezing like a good un. One would think that I'd had my share of stuff lately but apparently not enough yet.
As such I'm now on level 2 antibiotics. Not level one because of course silly me had completely forgotten that I'd had my share of level 1 antibiotics a month ago for the rash. How could I have forgotten that pleasure? According to the medical expert the government have new guidelines in place for the use of antibiotics. Isn't that thoughtful of them? So said medical expert has to follow their rulings and not any expertise they have.
Enough of that, I am hoping that they will work miracles for me, pleurisy is a nasty thing and I'm not wanting that again. I'm drinking lots of liquids and hoping for an early recovery.
So back to the knitting after that slight diversion.
This mohair is a luscious green and excellent to work with. But I couldn't just work on one item, after all don't want to be bored do we?
This is the mohair that was dyed in Wales last week, very soft and luscious to knit. The colour is actually darker than shown but who cares:) Mohair is hard to photograph even when it is Mr Mog doing the photography and not me.
So my dears I'll be off to rest and await miracles.
Talk soon

Poetry for Brigid Imbolc

  The Lake Isle of Innisfree BY  WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree, And a small cabin build there, of clay a...